Corruption of Courage
by lilgreenmomo
Summary: When the star witness to a vicious assault withdraws his statement it reveals a bigger conspiracy of silence that runs deeper than Hunt and Tyler ever believed.
1. Chapter 1

_**They're not mine, I've just borrowed them for a bit, I promise you can have them back in one piece when I've finished.**_

**Chapter One**

"Guv, you're not going to like this." Sam Tyler announced as he strode purposefully into Gene Hunt's office. Hunt had his feet up on his desk and was just in the process on unwrapping a particularly greasy bacon butty.

"Wot, less than I liked it when Raymondo smashed my bottle of Highland Park whilst attempting to demonstrate his prowess as a goalkeeper?"

"Hard to say Guv, probably." Sam grinned.

"Go on then Tyler." Hunt said between mouthfuls sandwich "It's Monday morning, lets start the week on a high so it can all go downhill from here."

"It's Arthur Ashfield, he's withdrawn his statement."

"'e's soddin' wot?" Hunt yelled thickly, spraying bits of bread at Tyler who pulled a face like he had something particularly unpleasant on his top lip as brushed them away.

"He's withdrawn his statement." Tyler repeated.

"Friggin' 'ell!" Hunt shouted, banging his fist down on the top of the nearest filing cabinet so hard that he left a dent in the top. "Well I 'ope you've charged the bastard wi' wastin' my pissin' time Tyler?"

"Yes Guv."

"So did Arse'ole Ashfield see fit to give us an explanation as to why he's decided to screw up our entire case against Keith Evans?" Hunt asked angrily.

"Well not our entire case Guv but he's a major witness. He said he'd lied, said that he and Evans had a disagreement over a gambling debt and he wanted to get back at him, so he made the whole thing up."

"Tell you wot Sam, something about this retraction stinks worse than Raymondo's aftershave & I want to know what it is. That's the third case in as many months we've had where the witnesses have retracted statements or the victim has dropped the charges. Right, is that scrote Ashfield still 'ere or 'ave you sent him on his merry way?*

*Still here, left him with Phyllis for processing."

"Well I think that it's about time the Gene Genie talked some sense into 'im..." Hunt snapped standing up from his desk and shovelling the last of his butty into his mouth. He strode from the CID office with his thumbs tucked into his trouser pockets looking every inch the Wild West sheriff he secretly wished he was. Sam followed him out, a look of foreboding on his face.

At the front desk Phyllis was just finishing up with processing Arthur Ashfield.

"Oi, Ashfield" Hunt shouted from the top of the stairs above them "What the soddin' 'ell d'y think y playin' at?"

"I'm sorry Mr 'Unt." he replied looking upwards towards the stairs where Hunt stood glowering down at him.

"You bloody well will be when I've finished with y Ashfield, I think you and I need a little chat." Hunt said moving down the last of the stairs to stand directly in front of Ashfield. Up close Hunt's massive frame dwarfed the scrawny and decidedly nervous looking Ashfield.

"B b but I was just on mi way Mr 'Unt."

"Not before you've answered a few of my questions Ashfield." He said grabbing him by the elbow and dragging him in the direction of the lost property office.

In the dim light of the lost property office Tyler and Hunt sat across the table from Arthur Ashfield. Hunt eyed him with a look of malice, pulled a cigarette from the pack in front of him, put it to his lips & lit it with a gold zippo which he shut again with a snap.  
Tyler switched on the tape recorder that lay between them on the table.

"Interview with Arthur Michael Ashfield, conducted Monday 24th April 1978, the time is 10:47am Officers present DCI Gene Hunt and DI Sam Tyler."

"You're lucky Ashfield, Tyler here is so fond of the book he'd marry it if he could, so instead of me kicking ten shades of shite out of you for wasting my time we're just going to have a nice little chat, if you're really lucky DI Tyler might even bring you a cup of tea and a digestive." Hunt said ruefully.

Drawing on his cigarette and blowing the smoke into Ashfield's face Hunt continued. "Right, your presence here is making me feel decidedly bilious Ashfield so let's get this over with. DI Tyler 'ere tells me that you're retracted yer statement, that you lied about witnessing Keith Evans arguing with Marianne Roberts just moments before he brutally assaulted her, just so you could get revenge for some petty little bitch fight you two had over money. Well do you know what I think Ashfield? I think you're lying to us now and I'll tell you why I think you're lying." Hunt said, the note of barely controlled anger rising in his voice as he lent in towards Ashfield across the desk. "You might be a maggoty little scrote but you're strictly low level, this case is high profile, people were sickened when they heard about it. The 'Town Crier' have offered a reward. I'll never forget the day I had to take Marianne's poor mum to the hospital and show her what that bastard did to her beautiful daughter. You might be a greedy little shit Ashfield but you're not callous, even you wouldn't use a case like this for your own ends. That's what I think, wots more I think you'd better start telling me the truth because my trigger hand is getting very itchy Ashfield." He said, by now he was leaning so far over the desk he was practically in the chair Ashfield sat on.

"Gene No!" Sam said loudly, standing up and placing a restraining hand on Hunt's shoulder.

"Why not Sam? Ashfield's playing with lives 'ere, let's just see how 'e feels when we start playing with 'is."

"I lied Mr 'Unt, thought I'd make a few quid in the process."

"And wot, you've 'ad a sudden attack of conscience and thought you'd come down 'ere an' set the record straight is it?" Hunt said, standing up & turning his back on Ashfield.

"That's right Mr 'Unt." Ashfield answered.

Hunt wheeled round and slammed his fist down on the table making the tape recorder and Ashfield jump. "STOP FRIGGIN' LYIN' TO ME!" He yelled, his face contorted with rage.

"Guv, sit down." Tyler said. "This isn't helping."

Hunt sat back down and took a drag on the fag that had been smouldering away in the ashtray.

"OK Dorothy, do your worst." Hunt said sarcastically.

"DCI Hunt thinks you're lying to us Arthur, any reason why that might be?" Sam asked in his usual calm manner."

"Dunno?" he replied.

Hunt looked on, pouting but resisted the urge to say anything.

"Arthur this is serious, we're not just talking about a few robbed telly's here, we're talking about attempted murder, we're talking about a woman who may never walk again. You've claimed to have witnessed key events in this case and your not the sort of moral upstanding citizen that normally comes forward. So why do so with this case? Keith Evans is a thug and a habitual criminal, he's been known to us since he was practically out of nappies, if you were looking to get revenge there are any number of crimes he's in the frame for. Why this one?"

"Dunno?"

"You don't know much do you Arthur? I'd be surprised if you even know how to wipe your own arse." Hunt said bitterly.

"Come on Arthur" Sam continued. "Why'd you retract your statement? I mean it's not as if anyone could prove you were lying, we've had no one else come forward to confirm or dismiss what you say you saw, you'd have probably got the money, we'd have got a conviction. Where's the problem?"

"But I lied." He said.

"Oh great time for you to decide to become an honest citizen Ashfield! We know there's no love lost between you and Evans, what was it, your conscience couldn't cope with a possible miscarriage of justice?" Who got at you Arthur?" Hunt said leaning across the desk again. "Who lent on you? You didn't come here of your own accord Arthur, some one threatened you didn't they?" Arthur looked unnerved.

"Oh, some one did! Well whatever it was they said they'd do to you it'll be nothing compared to what I'll do if you don't start telling me the truth." He threatened.

"N n now l look Mr 'Unt, I, I c can't tell you." Ashfield stammered, his nerves finally getting the better of him.

"You bloody can & you bloody well will." Hunt shouted.

"T they'll kill me." He pleaded.

"Tell us what you know Arthur, please this is important." Sam said.

"Can I 'av a fag Mr 'Unt." He asked.

"Not until you tell me what you know."

"Give him a fag Gene, might make him calm down a bit." Sam said, they had this good cop / bad cop routine down pretty well now.

"Fine, but he better start talking because I'm gettin' heartily sick of this."

"Alright Mr 'Unt, I'll tell you wot I know, but only if you don't make me testify."

"Oh you're a funny man Ashfield, really bloody hilarious. You've provided a vital witness statement in a high profile case and you think I'll just let you walk away?"

"Gene, a word." Sam said nodding towards to door.

"Alright Tyler, we're not finished 'ere Ashfield." Gene glared at him as the two officers walked out into the corridor.

"We were making a breakthrough then Tyler, wot d'y drag me out 'ere for"

"You said it yourself Guv, Ashfield's not the first witness to withdraw a statement, if he can give us information as to why it keeps happening it could be a whole lot more valuable than his evidence in the Roberts case."

" 'Ave you lost the plot Tyler? Keith Evans is a evil bastard, we need to nail him good and  
proper."

"And we will Guv, we've enough evidence even without Ashfield's testimony to tie him to the attack and get a secure conviction, if anything the defense'll argue that his evidence is circumstantial anyway. I think your instinct's right about this one Guv."

"Thank-bloody-you! Now I know why you wanted to have this discussion out 'ere Tyler. You didn't want to be on tape admitting I was right." Hunt gloated. "OK Sherlock what are you thinking?" He added, shifting from one foot to the other & running his hand through his hair, full of nervous energy.

"We agree to him retracting his statement in the Roberts case in exchange for information about who is leaning on our witnesses." Sam said.

"Alright." Hunt agreed.

"Agreed?" Sam questioned.

"Yes, agreed." Hunt said turning & re-entering the room. Sam raised his eyebrows to himself & followed Gene back into the room.

"Right Ashfield, it looks like DI Tyler here really is your guardian angel. Here's the deal, I don't arrest you for obstructing the course of justice."

"Yer wot?" Ashfield squawked.

"I don't arrest you for obstructing the course of justice, you don't give evidence in the Roberts trial, but in exchange you tell us all you know about who is leaning on witnesses. Deal?"

"You'd be wise to take the deal Arthur." Tyler added.

"Alright, alright Mr 'Unt. I was threatened. Ashfield said rubbing his face. "Some bloke approached me at the Uni'ed game last Sat'd'y Never seen 'im before, 'e wasn't one of Evanses mates, I'd recognise them. 'E was wearin' a West 'am scarf, 'e didn't sound Southern though. Told me if I didn't retract mi statement 'e'd knife me, make it look football related. I told 'im there was no need for that an' that I'd retract the statement. I 'ad to, 'e was serious about killin' me. 'E cut mi arm." Ashfield presented his arm, sure enough there was a deep slice around two inches in length in his forearm. Look, I'm tellin' you the truth this time no messin'. I really don't know 'oo 'e was an' I didn't get a good look at 'im cos 'e 'ad 'is 'at pulled down an' 'is scarf right up round 'is face. I don't even know 'ow 'e knew I'd given evidence, never told no one."  
Tyler and Hunt exchanged a look of realisation.

"Oh, come on Ashfield you might as well 'av told us it was the invisible man that threatened to disembowel you. There must be something more fer Christsakes." Hunt said.

"A, a dunno Mr 'Unt."

"Come on Arthur, there must've been something, a smell, a turn of phrase, anything that could help to identify the person that threatened you." Sam looked at him imploringly.

"Um, well."

Hunt groaned & rubbed his face with his hands.

"Well, there was this one thing, when he, he cut me, he used his left hand, & I think he had a tattoo, he had these ink marks at the top of his hand, could have been a snake." As he finished Ashfield took a final draw on the last of the fag Hunt had given him & stubbed it out in the overflowing ashtray that sat on the table in front of him.

"Right, so we're looking for a cack handed sailor that supports West 'am. That's it?" Hunt said turning on Tyler "We bargained away our star witness for that?" he snapped. "I thought he'd at least 'av given us a name! You always were ruddy useless Ashfield. Now get out of my sight before I change me mind about chargin' you!"

"Is that it, can I go?" Ashfield asked DI Tyler.

"Yes you're free to go Arthur and if I were you I'd make it my business to stay out of DCI Hunt's way for the foreseeable future." Tyler said.

"Yeah, uh Yeah I will" Ashfield said as he backed out of the room whilst Hunt stood staring at him and cracking his knuckles.

Gene and Sam walked back into the acrid fug that shrouded the CID lair and all the officers turned to face them, eager to know what had transpired.

"Cartwright, got a nice little research job for you. Old cases, I want to know about every single one from 1970 to now where the victim withdrew the charges or a witness withdrew a statement. Oh and I want to know the details for the suspects brief on every single case!"

"Yes Guv." Annie replied looking at Sam with an exasperated expression.

Sam smiled and nodded at her "Get Chris on it with you." he said "Thanks Annie."

"Sam, Raymondo, I feel a pub crawl coming on." Grinned Hunt.

"Nice One." said Ray, gloating at Chris.

"Y' kiddin' Guv, it's twelve thirty on a Monday afternoon? We've got a case to solve."

"& that my dear Samuel is precisely why we are going to visit every hostelry within gobbing distance of Old Trafford & Maine Road." Hunt continued.

"Nope, I'm still not seeing your logic boss."

"Because Ashfield has fingered someone who sounds to me like a layabout scumbag football 'ooligan, the ones that don't work'll be down the pub pissin' away their giro & the ones that do work'll be down the pissin' away their wages in their lunch hour, Right, mine's a pint Tyler..." barked Hunt grabbing his camel coat from the back of his chair & picking up his fags & lighter from the desk. "Don't worry kiddies," he added noticing the forlorn look on Chris's face. "We'll bring y' some chips back."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Well that was a complete waste of time & police resources!" Said Sam in a exasperated tone as the three officers entered The Railway Arms. It was 7 o'clock and Gene, Sam & Ray hadn't actually made it back to the station following their tour of some of Manchester's most salubrious drinking dens. Sam, who had been on soft drinks all afternoon and had been watching his colleagues get slowly pissed in the pursuit of a lead, was less than amused. The only upside of the afternoon had been the fact that Sam had got to drive for once. In fact Gene letting go of the keys to his shiny new Opel Manta had been a minor miracle in itself! Under normal circumstances Gene's car keys would have had to have been prized from his cold dead fingers but even he could see the point Sam had made about a designated driver and had handed them over with the customary "Break it & your chances of conceiving children will be drastically reduced." threat.

"Don't be such a puff Tyler. Best afternoon I've 'ad in ages." Ray slurred as he grappled with the bar in an attempt to keep himself vertical.

"That's the point Ray, it wasn't meant to be, we were meant to be working. But you two used it as an excuse to get shitfaced." Sam snapped.

"Tyler," said Gene "I resent that. I am not shitfaced, not yet anyway, Nelson a bottle of Scotch." He demanded. Nelson handed the bottle to Gene but the booze had slowed his reflexes and Sam grabbed it before Gene got the chance.

"Oi!" Gene shouted. "Oh all right Tyler I 'spose you can have a shot seein' as you've been playing nursemaid all afternoon. But you ought to know, whilst you were clucking about like a mother hen & gettin' your knickers in a knot over a couple of pints. I got some very interesting information from our old friend Eric Lydon at the White Lion about a new thug on the block." Gene grinned.

"I should bloody well hope so Gene you were talking to him for long enough." Sam said taking the Glasses Nelson handed to him.

"Sam, man brav do sumtin' about de Sleepin' policeman, 'e's clutterin' up ma bar." Nelson drawled in his Mancarribean accent. Sam turned to see Ray, who had perched himself on a bar stool, slumped over with his head resting on his arm and his gob wide open, a sliver of drool trickling from one corner & a gentle snoring sound emanating from it. Sam looked to Gene who nodded and rolled his eyes heavenward. With much effort and grunting the two men shouldered Ray's dead weight & hauled him over to a quiet corner of the pub, propped him up and collapsed onto the settle next to him. Ray didn't stir, not even when Gene stuffed several beer mats into his open mouth.  
Nelson brought over the abandoned bottle of Scotch and cleared away the empties that had been left by the table's previous occupants.

"So come on then Gene, what did you find out from Eric Lydon?" Sam asked taking a sip of the golden liquid Hunt had poured into his glass. In the background the high smooth saxophone refrain of Jerry Rafferty's Baker Street cut through the general chatter of the patrons. Sam looked up at nothing in particular and smiled at the sudden memory the music had unlocked. A sun soaked schoolyard, his first proper girlfriend, cherry red lips...  
Hunt lit the cigarette that he had hanging on his lip and took a long draw before he spoke.

"He said there's a bloke 'oo matches our description been comin' into the pub with the lads from the dye works. 'e first appeared about four or five months ago. He's not the loudest bloke, keeps 'imself to 'imself mostly but 'e 'ardly ever 'as to buy a drink for 'imself and the lads seem to respect 'is opinion when 'e gives it. Even Razor Hackett gives 'im the time of day."

"Razor Hackett, isn't he one of..."

"Keith Evans' cronies." Hunt finished the sentence for Sam.

"But Ashfield said he didn't recognise the guy who threatened him as one of Keith Evans' mates." Sam reminded Gene.

"True, but maybe 'e's not a mate of Evans, just Razor. And Ashfield wouldn't 'ave come across 'im before cos Ashfield's a red an' the White Lion's a blue pub." Gene suggested.

"Did you get a name for this bloke?"

"Moc." Hunt stated mid gulp.

"Moc?" Sam raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, Moc." Said Gene, mimicking his DI's actions.

"That's it?" Sam frowned.

"Yep, Lydon did say 'e thought it might be short for Mockney though. As in cockney. One of the lads told 'im that 'e'd moved back up 'ere from London but 'e's not a southerner."

"Mmmm, that'd fit with what Ashfield said and perhaps the West Ham link too. Perhaps it's worth coordinating with The Met, they might have some IFC intel that could prove useful." Sam wondered.

"Not a chance, I am not gettin' those southern nancies involved on my patch. Get them involved an' we might as well 'and the 'ol lot over to regional and soddin' Litton." Gene growled.

"But Guv, we wouldn't be getting them involved. Just collating information. We know this guy Moc, if he is our guy, isn't averse to a bit of violence, he might have Inter City Firm links. Previous form. It could be useful."

"Inter City Firm? Why do I get the feelin' you're not talkin' about British Rail here Tyler?" Hunt replied taking a last drag on the stub end of his fag.

"West Ham's hooligan element." Sam said.

"Alright Sam, if you think it'll turn something up on this 'Moc' character I'll agree to you contacting The Met. But you can't let bloody Litton get a whiff of this or 'e'll be prancin' in in 'is dinky size 8's an' shovin' is oar in where it's not wanted." Hunt sighed and drained the last of the whisky in his glass and the song on the Jukebox cut through the silence that had fallen over the two men. Patti Smith was just reaching her climax when the pub door burst open.

"Guv, Guv, we've got something." Chris called breathlessly as he tumbled through the door of the Railway Arms. Annie followed him in looking far more composed.

"Never mind Christopher, course of penicillin should sort that." Gene joked.

"Sam," Annie said, "We've looked back as far as January '75 so far, discounting cases that didn't get off the ground due to a lack of evidence we've found 11 cases that should have reached court but key witnesses or victims have withdrawn statements. Almost without exception the defendants had the same legal representation."

"Well come on Cartwright, don't keep us in suspenders. Who is it?" Gene said.

"Appleby and Forrster, their practise is in Alton Street." She replied.

"That pair of stuck up bastards. I should've known." Hunt snorted.

"But there's more Boss." Chris said excitedly.

"Come on the Nipper o' the Yard, spit it out." Hunt mocked.

"There's not just a link between the legal representation, there's a link between the defendants too. They all give their home addresses as the Stonecroft Estate." Chris exclaimed.

"Well that doesn't surprise me, it's like the bleedin' Alamo that estate. We'd be better off if they just built a bloody great wall around the place an' locked 'um all inside, at least that way they wouldn't be cloggin' up my cells & the court system. Not that we can get any of the bastards to court. Well done Cartwright, Christopher you deserve a drink." Hunt announced.

"Oh, cheers Guv." Chris grinned.

"And while you're up mine's a pint" Gene replied giving him one of his best stretch lipped smiles. Chris looked crestfallen and trudged off to the bar. He hadn't even got his chips.

"Sam, I'm starving" Annie whispered. Looking pointedly at Gene who was starting on his third shot of Scotch and gazing off into the middle distance with unfocused eyes.

"Yeah, sorry Annie. I really didn't think that we'd be gone that long." Sam said smiling at her sadly.

From his spot in the corner Ray snorted loudly but he didn't wake. Annie jumped. "How much did 'e 'av?" She asked looking across at the prostrate figure in the corner.

"Too much! Er, Guv." Sam attracted Gene's attention. "Me and Annie are gonna get off. I'm bloody starvin.'"

"What, you mean y' gonna leave me 'ere wi' Sleepy an' Dopey over there." He replied nodding in Chris's direction.

"Yep!" Sam stood up and grabbed Annie by the hand. "Oh and I'm taking your car. Your too pissed to drive it, you can barely even focus."

"Tyler, I forrrbidh you tttoo take my blroody cchar." Gene slurred. He tried to get up from the settle but his legs wouldn't work.

"Too late, see you tomorrow." And with that Sam and Annie walked out. Leaving a pouting Hunt with the snoring Ray and a thoroughly puzzled Chris.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

It was the hottest day of the year so far and Ray and Chris had been cooped up in the back of a green unmarked Transit crewcab van since 8:00am that morning. They were parked on a pretty street lined with Edwardian town houses & mature oak trees. The street, which was close to the courts, had long since ceased to be the residence of Manchester's well healed & gentrified classes and now housed the chambers and offices of several firms of barristers and solicitors; including those of Appleby & Forrster. CID had been watching the movements of the two lawyers for nearly two weeks and so far their efforts had turned up precisely bugger all.

Suddenly the rear doors of the van banged open causing Chris to fall backwards off his chair & Ray to spill hot coffee onto his crotch.

"Jesus shittin' Christ!" Ray exclaimed as he jumped up and attempted to brush the scalding liquid away before it permeated his Y fronts. Silhouetted in the bright midday sunlight that now flooded the van stood the Guv, dressed in a green council parks department polo shirt, jeans and tan rigger boots. In his hand he held a large brown paper bag from which wafted the unmistakable aroma of pie.

"Wakey wakey ladies, lunchtime!" Gene said hopping into the van and handing the bag to Chris.

"'Tater an' meat pies. Nice one Boss." Chris said, tearing open the bag & taking a huge bite out of one. "Got any sauce?" He said through a mouthful of buttery short crust pastry and gravy soaked potato.

"Guv, worra we doin' 'ere again? Ray questioned. "It's 'otter than a vindaloo fart in 'ere. Me an' Chris 'av bin sat in this van sweating our bollocks off for the last 4 hours and all that's 'appened is Appleby's bin down the road for the paper & Forrsters' Missus brought 'im 'is lunch in about 'alf an 'our ago." He grabbed himself a pie from the torn paper bag that Chris had discarded on the seat next to him and began devouring it ravenously.

"Normally the subtle approach isn't my style and much as it pains me I have to agree with Tyler. Surveillance and covert operations are the only way we are gonna nail these two bastards. They're clever, but they're also a couple of smug gits and sometime soon they'll get cocky, make a mistake and we'll 'av 'em." Said Gene as he swiped the last pie out from under Chris's eager hand. "Too slow Christopher, reflexes like a cat me, don't call me the Manc Lion for nothing." He bit into the pie greedily scattering pasty crumbs everywhere. The thwarted Chris went back to watching the offices of Appleby and Forrster.

"But wot about this lead Tyler's followin' up wi' the southern softies about this Moc bloke? Why can't we just go down The White Lion an' haul 'im in?" Ray continued.

"Because DS Carling," Gene said "If we 'aul this guy in with only the say so of a an amoeba like Ashfield & start askin' questions about him makin' threats on behalf of dodgy lawyers the first thing 'e'll do when we let 'im go; cos we'll 'ave to cos we've got nothing to charge 'im with yet; is go straight to 'em 'an warn 'em about nosey coppers askin' questions. Which'll give 'em ample opportunity to rid themselves of any evidence." Gene replied irritably.

The doors to the van banged open again and Sam and Annie jumped inside having returned from a tour of the canal towpath that ran directly behind the offices of Appleby & Forrster.

"Any movement?" Sam enquired.

"You are jokin' aren't y'?" Ray scoffed. "Av known Quadriplegics wi' more movement, if you ask me, it's a waste of bleedin' time all this. We should be out there nickin' villains but instead we're stuck in this poxy van waitin' for some stuck up twat to fart in the wrong key."

"It's all well & good arresting villains Ray but a fat lot of good it'll do us if we can't get them into court because their lawyers are putting up dodgy alibi's for them and leaning on witnesses." Sam replied.

"Yeah, & it's all well an' good for you two bloody lovebirds, at least you can pretend to be takin' a leisurely stroll down the canal bank together." Ray said bitterly.

"Well if you and Chris fancy strolling down the canal hand in hand be my guest." Sam said.

"Oi! Will you pair of fairies quit bickering, you're giving me indigestion." Gene interjected letting out a huge belch.

Annie scowled in disgust. "Guv, must you?"

"Sorry Cartwright, didn't mean to offend your delicate female sensibilities. I forgot Tyler here doesn't pass wind or leave the toilet seat up." Hunt replied sarcastically.

"Cor gerra load of 'er, I love summer me, girls wear better clothes." Chris exclaimed as he gazed through the binoculars.

"Wear less clothes you mean." Ray replied lecherously, snatching the binoculars from Chris & training them on the girl Chris had been ogling. "Bloody 'ell, look at the puppies on that! You could get lost in th-e..." The last of Ray's words were choked by the strap on the binoculars as DCI Hunt grabbed them.

"Down boys, you're like a pair of dogs in 'eat you two-ooooh, very nice, classy bird that. You're taste is improving Christopher."

Sam rolled his eyes and Annie grinned at him. The two of them peered out of the window of the van to see a pretty redhead, wearing a figure hugging wrap dress & wedge heeled sandals walking towards the offices of Appleby and Forrster.

"Hang on." said Tyler "I know her, that's the girl that works behind the bar at The Colosseum snooker club."

"Oh yeah, Sandra, Sarah, Sally..." Hunt reeled off a list of names. "No, Susannah, sexy Susie that's it. Now, why would Sexy Susie be in need to the services of a lawyer?"

"Dunno Guv, maybe she pulled someone a bad pint?" Said Ray.

"That girl couldn't pull a bad pint if her life depended on it, wouldn't matter if it was all head just as long as she was wearing that blue V neck that shows off 'er tits." Gene replied, grinning wolfishly.

"She can give me head anytime." Chris added.

"Ha! In yer dreams Christopher, woman like that needs a real man. Not some lanky streak of piss like you. Nope, the Gene Genie's her type of man I can tell. Tell you what, if you can even manage to get a dinner date with 'er I'll pay."

"Serious Guv?" Chris asked.

"Too right I am, & if you fail you buy me a bottle of single malt."

"Go on Chris, that's a bet too good to refuse." Ray goaded.

"Sam, she's going inside." Annie said nudging him.

"Er Gene, have you forgotten something? We're supposed to be undercover here!"

"And your point is Tyler?" Hunt said, turning away from the window to face Sam as he did so.

"Well, she knows our faces doesn't she."

"Yeah, but she doesn't know we're coppers an' she doesn't know Chris at all. It's 'im she'll be seein' the most of. Look, if nothin' else it could be as good a chance as any to find out what reason she has for visiting bent lawyers without blowing our cover." Hunt suggested.

Sam opened his mouth to express his objections but in reality Gene did have a point. "OK, lets pull the van around the corner." Said Sam. Ray jumped into the front, started the engine and threw the van into reverse so quickly that the force threw the rest of the occupants against the rear doors.

"Ow, Raaaay" Annie howled.

"Oi, Carling Y' Dick'ead, wotch wot y' doin'." Gene shouted.

"Sorry Guv, I was just itchin' for some action." Ray apologised.

"Your nose'll see some action from my fist if you're not careful." Hunt threatened.  
Ray carefully parked the van up in the next street and the team got out.

"Does this need all of us?" Sam said.

"Well I wanna make sure Chrissyboy here doesn't wimp out on us." Gene replied.

"Yeah & I wanna stretch mi legs, I've been stuck in that soddin' van since breakfast." Ray said, stretching his arms above his head so far that his own green shirt barely covered the expanse of beer belly he had been nurturing.

"Alright but at least try to make it look as if you're doing some work rather than lurking with intent. & Guv, try not to let her get a good look at you." Sam said with a note of caution.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head Gladys." Hunt replied, shouldering a sweeping brush from out of the back of the van. Ray grabbed a bag of gardening tools & Chris nearly toppled sideways as he picked up a hefty sack of fertiliser. "Right then troops, move out." Hunt ordered and the three of them disappeared around the corner back into the street where the offices of Appleby & Forrster were.

DCI Hunt, DS Carling and DC Skelton positioned themselves at a small area landscaped with trees and low level planting not far from the solicitors office and busied themselves with looking busy. Well Chris and Ray did at least, Gene merely busied himself with smoking and barking out orders. They didn't have to wait long for Susannah to reappear. When she did she was with Appleby. The three officers watched as the pair exchanged a few words and shook hands. Appleby turned and walked back inside and Susannah began to walk back in their direction.

"Here she comes Chris, now's yer chance." Hunt hissed.

"Wo' now?" Chris replied in a panicked voice.

"Not chickening out on us are you?" Ray goaded.

"N, n, no, i, it's just?" Chris said glancing around in the direction of the redhead.

"Go on then, get over there before she walks past and you have to chase her." Hunt growled.

Chris stood up from where he had been squatting over a flowerbed and made a tentative move towards Susannah. He hesitated slightly and looked back towards his colleagues. Who were mouthing the words "Go on." through stifled laughter & making shooing motions. Chris turned away began to follow the Susannah who by now had passed them and was heading rapidly towards the end of the street. Chris broke into a jog. "Um, excuse me." Chris called after her.

"Yes,?" Susannah replied in dubious tone as she turned to face him.

"Er I er, look er." Chris stumbled.

"Yes?" Susannah said impatiently.

"Well, erm, look, my mate, my mate over there. Uh OK, my mate reckoned that I wouldn't have the guts to ask you out & if I did manage you'd say no and well I'm asking you out and you're probably going to say no..." Chris tailed off having run out of words and breath.

"What's your name?" she smiled at him.

"Er, it's Peter." Chris replied.

"Well Peter, I'm Susannah, now why don't you take a deep breath and start again." Susannah said in the kind of tone a teacher would use with a nervous child on its first day at school.

"Oh, uh OK, well me an' my mates over there saw you walk by and well we thought that you were really pretty and they, well, they reckoned that I wouldn't have a chance with you."  
Susannah looked over towards the spot where Ray was lent against a tree and Gene was standing sucking on a ciggy & pouting at his boots. She recognised him instantly but couldn't quite place where she had seen him.

"What did they bet you?" Susannah asked.

"Bet?"

"Come on Peter, you're blokes, there'll have been a wager involved somewhere." Susie said matter-of-factly.

"Well, er, 'e said If I managed to get a date with you 'eed pay."

"Which mate, the one staring at his boots?" She asked.

"Er, yeah." Chris replied looking nervously towards Gene.

"And if you didn't?" She questioned.

"I'd owe him a bottle of single malt." Chris replied.

"Peter, I'm going to be honest with you, you're not my type but I'll tell you what, I'm up for a laugh and it's always nice to get one over on anyone arrogant enough to think they know what's best for me so if you fancy it you've got yourself a date." she smiled.

"You're kiddin'?" Chris replied, his jaw almost on the floor.

"Nope, never joked about a thing in my life. So, tell your mate it's a table for two at Brasserie Saint Pierre, eight o'clock tomorrow night. oh & tell him I only ever drink Veuve Clicquot."

"Right, er, brilliant, see you there!" said Chris grinning from ear to ear, still not entirely sure if he'd won the star prize.

Susannah noticed Gene watching them intently, she smiled at him then lent forward and kissed Chris on the cheek causing him to blush redder than her hair. With that she walked off in the direction of the city centre pausing only to take in the look on Gene's face as she went. She smiled herself & shook her head.

Chris was on such a high he practically bounced back across the street to where the team, including Sam and Annie were stood. Not only had he got himself a date with a very sexy girl, but better still he had got one over on the Guv. It didn't seem to matter to Chris that Susie wasn't interested in him in the biblical sense. In fact secretly he was glad, he had the distinct feeling he'd have been punching above his weight if she had been & he wouldn't have been able to enjoy the slap up feed he was on for. Not that he was going to let Hunt and the others know it of course.

"Well?" Hunt demanded as Chris approached.

"She said yes!" Chris said, beaming.

"Yer Wot?" Hunt replied incredulously.

"She said yes, I've got a date, tomorrow night at 8 O'clock at Brasserie Saint Pierre." He smiled.

"Brasserie Saint Pierre? When I said dinner I meant a Bernie Inn or the Wimpy bar not bloody  
Brasserie Saint Pierre." Hunt pouted.

"Oh and she said she only ever drinks Veuv, Verve Click on."

"Veuve Clicquot" Sam corrected, "Champagne."

"Cheeky bitch." Gene said.

"Looks like she's done a number on you good an' proper Guv." Ray laughed, and the others joined in. Gene was less than amused.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Thanks to the lovely Sarah Blackwood for her expert knowledge on the menu choices. I've never actually eaten at an upmarket French restaurant before (plenty of more earthy eateries & Huitres are divine but nothing so elegant.)**_

_**A note re cash, in April '78 I was 12 months old. So I'm really only guessing at the value of the pound. If anyone wants to give me an indication of the cost of a really pricey meal including a bottle of Champagne back then I'd appreciate the info.**_

**Chapter 4**

It was 7:45 in the evening and the CID team were ensconced in the Medlock Arms, a cosy little boozer still lit by gas lamps, favoured by Gene for the extensive whiskey collection on the top shelf and conveniently situated around the corner from the location of Chris's impending date. DI Tyler had been prepping Chris for his rendezvous all afternoon. "You alright about this Chris?" Sam asked, noticing that pale grey pallor that had come across his face. He opened his mouth to speak but the words failed to escape his lips, he nodded mutely instead.

"I'm not sure about this Tyler. That look on Chris's face isn't exactly filling me with confidence." Gene frowned.

"You're just worried about how much this is going to cost you." Sam remarked.

"Don't worry Chr, er Peter, you'll be fine. Just remember what Sam told you and keep it light." Annie patted Chris on the arm in a manner that she hoped was reassuring. He smiled weakly at the gesture.

"I'm brickin' it Annie. What If I mess up?"

"If you cock this up and you'll find yourself back in uniform so fast you'll barely even have time to shine your shoes." Gene sniped.

"No pressure then Chr, er Pete mate." Ray smirked.

"Gene, if you've got nothing constructive to say..." Sam shot him a dark look. "Peter, you just need to remember not to drink too much, you have to be alert, focused." Gene rolled his eyes at this but kept his comments to himself.

"Keep that in mind and you should be fine. We'll be on hand in the alley behind the restaurant if you need us. You should be able to open the window in the gents that's behind the stall furthest left, we'll be positioned underneath it. Right, get your hand in your pocket Gene. Peter needs some cash." Sam grinned. Gene scowled and pulled out his wallet.

"Quick, get your orders in at the bar, the Guv's got 'is money out." Ray joked.

"Here." he snapped thrusting thirty quid into Chris's clammy hand. "There 'ad better be change as well!"

"Guv, 'ell need more than that, its The Bras a not Bernie Inn remember." Ray added. Gene reluctantly handed over another twenty.

"I could eat out and get rat-arsed every night this month with that much money. You'd better eat every last scrap or bring me the best damn doggy bag I ever saw. Oh, an' I want a receipt." Chris stared agog at the notes in his hand but didn't say a word, eventually he looked to Sam and Annie for a final sign of reassurance.

"Good luck mate." Ray said slapping him on the back. Chris stood up, pulled on the jacket of his new suit, knocked back the last of the glass of whiskey he'd be given as Dutch Courage and headed for the door without looking back.

At Eight O'clock Chris found himself waiting nervously outside The Brasserie St Pierre for Susannah. Not only did he have the usual first date jitters to contend with but he also had to concentrate on remembering that his name was not Chris but Peter, he was a landscape gardener for the council parks department, that the Guv and Ray were his colleagues Gerry and Ron and he rented a house in Salford with his mate Paul. Well that last bit was true but with his mind in such a state he was having trouble just recalling the stuff that was true let alone anything else. Chris attempted to light himself a fag to calm his nerves but his hands were shaking too much to even light a match. He gave in and stuffed the matches and his hands into his pockets and attempted to look cool as several couples walked by him hand in hand and entered the restaurant.

She was late. He'd been stood up, he knew it. What was he thinking? A woman like that would never been seen out with him. She was clearly just humouring him the other day. He was going to be made to look a fool in front of the Guv and Ray. A light summer rain had begun to fall and Chris was just about to turn around and head back towards the Medlock Arms and inevitable humiliation when a woman who could only have been Susannah appeared around the corner of the street, sheltered from the rain by a clear plastic umbrella. Chris's mouth fell open. She looked stunning, dressed in a pale blue halter maxi dress that emphasised every curve she had to perfection and complimented her pale skin and vivid red hair, which she wore in a flicked our Farrah Fawcett style. Covering her shoulders was a silver grey shrug.

"Peter, I'm so sorry I'm late." Susannah apologised breathlessly as she approached. "Some idiot at the bus stop kept trying to chat me up, wouldn't leave me alone, so I decided to try and get a cab but I couldn't find one and by the time one did pass me I was almost here anyway. I hope that you haven't been waiting long?"

"N, no, not too long it's OK." Chris stumbled. In reality she was only a few minutes late but to him it had seemed like an eternity. "Shall we go in then?" He added adjusting his tie. Susannah smiled sweetly at him and nodded, they both moved towards the door at the same time and bumped into each other.

"Sorry, er, after you." Chris said leaning forward and pulling open the door for Susannah like the perfect gentleman. Buoyed by the further encouraging smile she gave him he placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her through the door into the restaurant. The feeling was short lived though. The haughty look on the face of the Maitre d' saw to that.

"Can I help you Sir?" he asked in a tone that indicated he clearly believed he couldn't.

"Table for two in the name of Ske, er Scott." Chris stumbled again.

"Follow me." the trussed up Maitre D' replied, grabbing two large red leather bound menu's from the stand in front of him and leading them to a table in the rear of the restaurant. "Relax." Susannah whispered seeing the worried look on Chris's face.

"Don't let the insufferable snob think he has all the power and you'll be fine." She smiled and winked surreptitiously at Chris as they took their seats. Chris returned the smile as well as his nerves would allow and looked about him.

The interior of the Brasserie St Pierre was a thing of rare understated elegance. Louis XIV inspired, with acres of gilt and ornate carving but the sumptuous reds that were typical of the period had been exchanged for muted creams and golds that were accented with a bright blue. The fabrics were soft and tactile and the lighting low and warm. Even in his slightly anxious state , Chris couldn't help but notice the curious and admiring glances they seemed to be attracting. He caught the eye of a professional looking gentleman at the next but one table. The man looked over at Susannah and then back to Chris and gave him a nod and a grin that said "Nice One Mate."

An Aperitif? a young waiter dressed in black trousers and waistcoat with a crisp white cotton shirt approached the table. Chris felt the panic rising again and looked to Susannah for an answer.

"Ah, yes Kir Royale thanks." She smiled.

"And for Sir?" The waiter asked giving Chris a withering look.

"Uh, the same, thanks." He replied not having a clue what he had just ordered.

The waiter walked away towards the bar, arching an eyebrow at his one of his colleagues as he did so. Chris picked up the menu and his face fell. It was all in French.

"You've never eaten in a place like this have you Peter?" Susannah asked. Chris wasn't sure how to reply, he was worried if he said that he had he'd end up making a fool of himself but equally he didn't want her to think any less of him by saying no. In the end he didn't have to say anything. "Don't worry." Susannah continued "Neither have I. But I have a theory that if you behave like you are meant to be somewhere and don't allow the situation to intimidate you, eventually it starts to feel like you were never meant to be anywhere else. Now, what would you like to eat?" She grinned and picked up the menu.

"Um, well I er," he hesitated. "I don't speak French." He finally whispered from behind his menu.

At that moment the waiter returned with a silver salver on which was perched two tall Champagne flutes containing a fizzing pink liquid and a small dish containing green and black olives. He made a great show of placing everything on the table in front of them before finally standing up stiffly and asking "Are you ready to order?"

"Yes, I think we are." Susannah replied, giving the waiter a saccharine smile. Both he and Chris gave her a wide eyed look of surprise.

"To start, we'll have Huitres mignonette, and the escargots, then the potage au cresson. I shall have Homarde a l'Americaine and the gentleman will have the Tournedos Rossini. To finish I think that we'll have the flambee'd bananas."

"And what would you like to drink with that?" The waiter replied incredulously.  
"Well, we shall have a carafe of water and perhaps you might suggest something?" She enquired of the waiter, the saccharine smile still playing on her ruby lips.

"Of course, the Chablis is an excellent wine that will compliment your menu choices beautifully and very well priced too." The waiter replied.

"That sounds perfect, thank you er, what was your name again?" Susannah asked.

"It's Tom." He replied, blushing slightly.

"Thank you Tom." She smiled at the waiter and handed him their menus. This time her smile was genuine. Tom turned and headed toward the kitchen to deliver their order.

"Er, Susannah?" Chris said.

"Yes Peter, oh and please call me Susie." She replied.

"Susie, What did you just order? Wot's Tor, Tornado Rossini, sounds like a racing driver!" Chris replied looking thoroughly puzzled.

"Well, I ordered you the steak, but you'll have to wait and see what else turns up." She giggled. "Anyway, Cheers." she continued picking up her glass of Kir "Here's to your very generous friend."

"To Gerry." Chris replied, taking a sip of the sweet lightly fizzing cocktail and feeling pleased that he had managed to get something of the cover story out without stumbling over it. He reached over and grabbed a black olive from the dish and bit right into it.

"Ow!" He exclaimed.

"Oooh be careful Peter, the black ones have still stones in." Susie giggled.

"I know that now." Chris said rubbing his mouth.

"Here, try a green one, they are stuffed with pimentos."

"How do you know all this, about food an' that?"

"Well there is a fantastic little Deli on Cambridge Street that I sometimes go into for lunch, they have about twenty different varieties of olives there. Do you like them?"

"Yeah, actually, kinda salty but I do." Chris replied grabbing another. The sweet Kir and the surprisingly calming influence of Susannah were both working to ease Chris's nerves. So much so he was even surprising himself.

Their waiter, Tom, approached the table again this time bringing with him two plates. On one there were three oysters dressed in a shallot vinaigrette and on the other the same number of snails in garlic butter. Chris blanched at the sight of both.

"I'll take the escargots." Susannah indicated to Tom to place them in front of her. He placed the oysters in front of Chris, who wrinkled up his nose.

"Would you like me to open the wine for you now?"

"That would be lovely thank you Tom." Susie replied, her gaze still on Chris who was eyeing his plate with a look of revulsion. Chris felt her kick him under the table and dragged his attention away from the plate to smile at their waiter.

Tom nodded to his colleague, who brought over a carafe containing iced water and an ice bucket on a stand that contained the bottle of Chablis. He pulled the cork from the bottle with a flourish and offered it first to Susannah then to Chris to scent the bouquet. Chris had no idea what he was doing so merely mimicked Susie's actions. Tom poured a tiny amount of the pale gold liquid into the bottom of Susie's glass. She picked up the glass, held it up to the light and swirled the wine around. She dipped her nose into the glass and breathed deeply. Finally she put the glass to her lips and took a small sip.

"Very good, an excellent choice." She said giving Tom an appreciative little smile. He poured each of them a small measure of the wine and then left them to enjoy their entree's.

Chris returned his attention to the plate of oysters in front of him.

"Of course the classic way to eat those is with a squeeze of lemon." Susie said nodding at the trio of mollusc's languishing in their dressing in front of Chris. "But if you've never tried them before it's probably better to have them dressed in something with a little more flavour." Susie continued, taking up a small set of silver tongs in one hand and a delicate two pronged fork in the other. Chris watched on as she picked out a snail with the tongs and expertly worked the shining meat from the shell of the unfortunate gastropod before placing it delicately into her mouth. A trace of the garlic butter sauce glistened momentarily on her lips in the candlelight before she slowly licked them clean. The act was incredibly suggestive and Chris felt sad that he stood almost no chance of following it up.

"Well, go on then, tuck in." she grinned, waving the fork in the direction of the oysters on the plate in front of him.

"Um, yeah, OK." He said apprehensively, picking up the fork furthest away from his plate on the left, just as Sam had told him to do.

Clumsily, Chris speared an oyster with his fork, but it came away from the plate resolutely attached to its shell before falling back with a clatter that provoked several reproachful glances from the other diners.

'Bloody thing', he thought and pushed his fork forcefully up and under the soft flesh of the shellfish... Too forcefully! The strands of muscle that had held the oyster in the shell gave way with an ominous slurping noise and the momentum of its release sent it soaring,.. Chris watched in horror as the rogue oyster rose in its ill fated flight, before making its inevitable landing on the luxurious cream carpet, right at the feet of the Maitre D'.

Chris was mortified, he could feel the heat of complete humiliation rising on his cheeks, right at that moment he genuinely hoped that the ground would open up and swallow him. Anything to avoid the withering stare of the supercilious Maitre D' who bent and retrieved the offending projectile.

He'd been doing so well, the Guv was right, he couldn't do this, he just wasn't cool enough, for this place, for undercover work, for Susannah.

Eventually he forced himself to take his eyes off his plate and took a glance in Susannah's direction, he prepared himself for a look of disappointment, contempt, pity, but it wasn't there. Instead he was amazed to see her almost bent double with silent laughter, tears running down her flushed cheeks.

"Did you see his face?" She gasped. "I thought that he was going to have some sort of seizure. It's a good job I didn't give you the snails." she laughed, wiping the tears away from her eyes with an elegantly manicured finger. "Here, let me help." She said, leaning over the table & gently freeing the other oysters from their shells. She picked one up and placing the shell to her lips tipped the contents into her mouth. "Mmmmm, lovely. Your go."

Chris picked up the remaining oyster and copied her actions, but there was one thing that he had failed to notice, poor form for a detective. Susie hadn't actually chewed it. He took a great bite and nearly gagged at the texture.

"Don't chew, just swallow." She said, laughing again. Clearly this girl is trying to make a fool of me Chris thought. The thought must have told on his face because Susie stopped laughing abruptly.

"I'm sorry Peter, I shouldn't laugh, really I shouldn't. If you haven't tried it before I guess food like this can be a daunting prospect. But tell me, did you like it?"

"It was, um, revolting." He said, deciding honesty was probably the best policy and gulping down the last of his Kir to rid himself of the taste. "I can't believe they're supposed to be an afro-whats-its-name."

"They're full of Zinc, good for testosterone production." Susie replied.

"Best not give any to the Gu, er Gerry then. 'e's got enough for about ten men already." Chris grinned.

"Yes, he did strike me as a man's man, so what's he like to work with?" Susie asked, a look Chris chose not to read on her face.

"'e's alright, bit shouty I s'pose, bossy, like all bosses. Knows what he's doin' though an' 'e's always fair."

"That's good." Susie said, finishing off the last snail, carefully tearing pieces of bread roll and mopping up the last of the garlic butter with them. "And he's paying for this too so he must be generous."

"You're joking." Chris spluttered through his first mouthful of the Chablis. "'E'll make me pay for this don't you worry. I'll be buying the bacon barms from now until 1980."

"You've braved the oysters, I don't suppose you want to try the snails do you?" Susie asked.

"No, no ta. The oysters were enough."

Susie smiled again and silence fell over the two of them. It wasn't awkward though, thoroughly pleasant was the thought that sprang to Chris's mind. Momentarily their waiter, Tom, returned to the table to remove their empty plates and replaced with them soup dishes filled with a deep green liquid.

"Don't worry Sir." He addressed Chris "You're not the first to have the flying fish. You won't be the last. Chef's 'little joke' I am afraid, they're supposed to come out of the kitchen properly prepared."

Tom left them again and Chris took a great mouthful of the green soup. It was hot and peppery, not at all what he was expecting. "Mmmm it's good this." He said sounding almost surprised as he dunked his bread roll into the soup.

Reassured by Tom's words and the fact that he hadn't managed to dribble soup all over the crisp white tablecloth or dip his tie in it Chris began to relax a little.

Sadly Chris's state of relaxation was short lived. As the plates from the second course were cleared away and their waiter brought out the third, - Chris's being a rather fine, if somewhat sparse fillet steak dish combining foie gras truffles & a Madeira sauce. & Susie's being an equally scanty lobster and rice dish. "Nouvelle Cuisine" Susie had said. - the door of the restaurant swung open heavily and a loud group of expensively dressed men and women entered. At the head of the crowd was Marcus Appleby.

There was no doubt about it, on the surface Marcus Appleby was a handsome man. Tall and slim with rakish blonde hair and the sort of perma-tan one obtains from taking four foreign holidays a year. But a closer look revealed that his ice blue eyes were cold and hard and the smile that played upon his lips was more of a sneer.

'Shit!' Chris thought, he hadn't been expecting this. The most he'd been expecting to have to do was to ask Susie a few questions about herself, perhaps steer the conversation in the direction of their meeting the other day, find out why she'd been to see a couple of bent lawyers. The last thing he was expecting to come face to face with a suspect. Would Appleby recognise him? Chris wondered if Appleby might have noticed him at at the station, at court? What if he had? His cover would be blown and then where would they be? Up shit creek and missing an oar that's where. Chris wondered if he could sneak away without being seen. Too late. From his vantage point at the bar Appleby spotted Susie and brushing off the fawning advances of the Maitre D' - Clearly Mr Appleby was a regular patron at Brasserie St Pierre. - headed straight toward them.

"Soooozie sweetheart." Appleby oozed, taking her hand and casting a lecherous eye over her whilst, thankfully, completely ignoring Chris. "What a lovely surprise, I didn't know you ate here?"

"Nor I you. Mr Appleby." she replied, smiling sweetly.

"Oh me, eat here all the time, usually have that intimate little spot in the corner." He said, winking and waving a hand in the direction of a secluded booth. "But we're celebrating our little victory in court today so we shall need that table by the window to accommodate our little party." He smiled smugly, finally noticing Chris "And who's your, friend?" He asked eyeing Chris with a look that was either disdain, suspicion or worse, both.

"This is Peter, he's an old friend from school, this is his treat. Peter this is Mr Appleby, partner in Law with Appleby & Forrster. The man who has been kind enough to offer me a position at his firm." Susie lied brightly.

"Is that right? Nice to meet you Peter." He replied, entirely insincerely and offering a perfunctory handshake. "Well Susannah dear, you stick with us and you'll eat here plenty more times I can assure you." Appleby said, surreptitiously wiping his hand on his trousers. Chris's palm had been sweaty with nerves. "I shall leave you to your meal but join us for a drink when you're done." he concluded, sounding more like he was giving an order than making an offer. He gave Susannah one last conceited smirk, squeezed her hand and strolled off in the direction of the rest of his group of loud, equally smug friends.

Chris couldn't relax even with Appleby at the other side of the restaurant. He had placed himself at the head of his table, which gave him an unbroken view of their own table that he appeared to be making the most of.

"Are you OK Peter?" Susie's question made Chris realise that his apprehension must have been evident on his face. There was nothing else for it. He needed to speak to Sam.

"Uh, yeah er per'aps the oyster didn't agree with me. 'Scuse me a sec." Chris got up from the table, nearly knocking his chair over in the process and, cursing his lack of composure, headed in the direction of gents.

The gentlemans' lavatory of The Brasserie St Pierre was, by some considerable distance, the nicest Chris had ever frequented and was also, fortunately, deserted. He passed by the sinks and urinals and entered the stall at the end of the room as he had been instructed. Once inside he locked the door behind him and climbing on the closed lid of the toilet pan pushed open the window.

"Boss? Guv?" Chris whispered urgently. "You there?" He peered out through letterbox gap the open window made into the alley below. A noise to the left made him start slightly and he nearly slipped off the toilet seat. Sam and Annie appeared from behind a huge metal bin on casters. "Boss, Annie, where's the Guv? Appleby's 'ere."

"We know Chris." Annie said, ."The Guv and Ray 'av gone around the front to get a better view."

"No, thee caan't they're sat right in the window." Chris replied sounding panicked.

"Don't worry Christopher, I'm not as daft as you look." A gravelly voice sounded from the end of the alley.

"Bloody 'ell Skelton, you jammy bastard 'av you seen wot she's wearin' She looks like she's smuggled in two bald fellas under that dress!" Ray exclaimed as he appeared at the bottom of the alley behind the guv.

"I know." Chris replied with a goofy grin.

"Chris, has Appleby given any indication that he recognises you." Sam asked, ignoring Hunt & Ray.

"No Boss, well it's 'ard to say innit, if 'e did 'e was playin' it cool when 'e spoke to me."

"'E spoke to you? What d'y mean 'e spoke to you?" Gene snapped

"E knows Susannah d'unt 'e Guv, saw 'er straight away. Guv, she works for 'im."

"Sam, perhaps she was at the chambers for an interview then?" Annie piped up.

"Could be Annie," Sam said "Right Chris, lets assume for now that he hasn't recognised you, get back in there and find out what you can. We'll stay here..." Hunt cut Sam off in mid stream.

"Sod that Sam!" he exclaimed "Chris needs to come out of there now, before the situation goes tits up."

"Guv, he's doing fine. Appleby hasn't recognised him. We need him in there."

Suddenly the washroom door banged open and the voices of two men echoed about the room, bouncing off the gleaming tiles.

"Shit, what do I do?" Chris whispered urgently, glancing backwards over his shoulder to make sure that the door to the stall was still locked.

"Oh, just get back out there." Hunt growled under his breath. "'urry up or she will be thinkin' you've done a runner, & shut the bloody window."

Chris pulled the window shut as gently as he could and slipped silently back to the floor. He dropped the toilet lid down with a bang and pulled the chain, which needed a few yanks before the flush worked. Pausing, he took a deep breath before drawing back the bolt on the stall door and stepping out into the room, directly into the path of Appleby who was heading for the wash basins.

"Peter! You alright mate? You look a bit peaky." Appleby asked, his tone sickly sweet.

"Oh, er, yeah uh. oyster didn't agree with me." Chris uttered a stammered reply as he squeezed past the imposing figure of Appleby, his head bowed to avoid eye contact and hurried towards the sinks.

"Oh, shame that. I do love a good oyster." Appleby continued taking slow deliberate strides across the floor to where Chris was standing. "You want to be getting back to that pretty dinner guest of yours, I noticed that she's been sat alone for quite a while now. If she was with me I wouldn't let her out of my sight for a second." By the time he had finished speaking, Appleby was standing so close that Chris could feel hot breath on the back of his neck as Appleby let out a mirthless laugh.

Chris's nerves, and anger (he didn't much like the lecherous grin Appleby wore on his face when he had mentioned Susannah,) were once again beginning to get the better of him. He pushed button down on the cold tap but his hand slipped away causing the water to spray out uncontrolled, all over the crotch of his trousers!

"Shit!" Chris exclaimed as he tried in vein to brush away the water.

Appleby burst out laughing. "Just not your day is it, mate." He said unsympathetically and for the second time that evening Chris found himself praying for the ground to open up. Pulling off his jacket he did his best to hide the highly suspicious looking wet patch on his trousers with it and scurried from the washroom, the sound of laughter ringing in his ears.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

In the alley DCI Hunt lent up against the wall and lit a fag.

"I don't like this Tyler, I don't like this at all. It was bad enough when it was just Chris makin' an tit of 'imself that I 'ad to worry about without me 'avin' to worry about Appleby puttin' two un two together." He grumbled.

"Well he hasn't as far as we know and we need Chris in there Guv." Sam replied.

"'E better come up with somethin' worth the risk then! Cos if that bastard does twig as to oo 'e 'is we're shagged." Gene pouted and his cigarette fizzed out as he dropped the dog-end into a puddle.

~x~

"What happened to you?" Susie asked as Chris slipped back into his chair, hoping to God that she hadn't seen the suspect stain on his trousers. "I thought that you'd fallen in. Or worse done a runner. I'd have been washing up here from now until Christmas if you had."

"Yeah sorry, dodgy door lock." He replied, his ears turning pink as he looked down at his plate and grinned shyly. "So how's y' lobster?"

"Fantastic actually, would you like to try?" Susie replied, gathering a combination of the lobster and the rice onto her fork and waving it in Chris' direction.

"Uh, um." Chris replied hesitantly, memories of the oyster still very raw.

"Oh don't worry, it's not like the oyster I promise, it's more, meaty." She grinned, pushing the fork closer to Chris' face. He took a bite and was surprised by the texture.

"S' Good, S'like chicken." he mumbled through the mouthful.

"It's a start." Susie laughed. "Go on then, let me try some of yours."

Chris, who was trying his best to ignore the cold clamminess between his legs and the temptation to rearrange his trousers that it induced, pushed a piece of the tender steak onto his fork as delicately as he could, taking care to ensure that he included some of the truffle and Madeira sauce for Susie to taste. Cupping his hand under the fork so that he didn't get the sauce all over the tablecloth he fed her the mouthful just as he had seen a million other courting couples share their food. He watched her intently as she closed her eyes and savoured the rich taste of the succulent steak.

"Mmm, I'll tell you something Peter. Your friend Gerry really is a generous man. You must thank him for me. I don't think I've ever had food this good."

"Y could tell 'im yerself. The other day, when we saw you 'e said 'e recognised y' from the snooker club." Chris replied, suddenly acutely aware of why he was really there and sorry that the act wasn't for real.

"Ah! I thought that I knew him from somewhere but I couldn't place him. He's not a regular though. I've not seen you there before either I don't think?" She questioned.

"Nah, snooker's not my game. Prefer darts. Quite a bandit with a set of arras." Chris replied proudly. He had bragging rights to precious little, but the fact that A Division had been inter-division darts champions for the last five years running had been due in no small part to his prowess with a weighted flight. "So how long 'ave you worked there? The snooker club I mean." He continued.

"Just short of three years, since I started at university really. Even living at home my grant doesn't seem to go anywhere what with fees and texts and then of course I'll need money behind me when I start training to be a barrister, during the first few years you're barely paid peanuts."

"'S'that why you were at the lawyers place then? Saw you shakin' 'ands with Mr Appleby."

"Yes we were just going over the finer points of my position, I graduate this summer. I handed in my dissertation last week actually, then I've got final exams coming up soon. This is a rare night off to be honest. I want to qualify as a Barrister and for that I need a pupillage position. Which is what Mr Appleby has offered me. I'll do the Bar exams part time but the partners want me to start as soon as my final exams are over so at least I'll hit the ground running, usually you'd have to wait to do the pupillage."

_Shit,_ Chris thought, smart as well as sexy, he really didn't stand a chance.

"So how long have you been making the city look pretty then?" Susie continued.

"Eh? Oh! Yeah, 'bout five years. S'alright, this time uv year's great, lots of sunshine but it's not so much fun in January when yer out in all weathers freezin' yer knackers... er freezin' to death." He corrected himself. He felt pleased with the way he was throwing himself into the cover story with gusto. Sam would be proud.

They chatted for a while about this and that, movies; Chris had loved Star Wars but Susie hadn't been that keen, she'd been impressed by the special effects but it really wasn't the sort of thing that floated her boat. She had a crush on Steve McQueen and had seen 'Bullitt' and 'The Towering Inferno' more times than she cared to admit. Chris had taken great delight in mocking her love of Grease before eventually admitting that he did quite like it but the fact that that it was intrinsically linked with the less than happy memory of an old girlfriend had marred his opinion of it somewhat. Music; apparently this was Susie's major indulgence, she told Chris that when she was younger she had regularly walked the three mile journey to the local grammar school to save her bus fare so that she could buy the latest singles.

"Susie, why didn't you tell Mr Appleby how we really met?" Chris asked. He wasn't quite why the thought had crossed his mind but he was aware that the conversation was veering away from the matter at hand and it seemed as good a way to drag the conversation back on track as anything.

Susannah glanced over at Appleby, who was busy flirting with a bottle blonde wearing too much makeup.

"I'm not sure really." She admitted. "I suppose seemed easier than getting into the whole 'blind date' discussion with him. Not that I'm embarrassed about being on a blind date, I'm really enjoying myself actually." She smiled.

"So, what's 'e like then? This Appleby bloke?" Chris probed a little further.

"Brilliant apparently, very sharp. Doesn't suffer fools though and I have heard that if he finds a weakness he will exploit it. You have to be really on your game when you come up against him. I'm looking forward to learning from him. The other senior partner, Forrster, is a solicitor. It's an unusual setup but it seems to suit them." She concluded, finishing the last mouthful of her lobster.

Chris knew exactly who Forrster was and had he silently thanked whatever god of luck was smiling down on him at that precise moment that he too hadn't shown up to join the celebrations. It would have been game over if he had.

"Was everything alright with your meals?" Their waiter Tom was saying.

"Beautiful thank you very much Tom." Susie smiled, making Tom blush openly.

Chris had heard the phrase 'could charm the birds from the trees' but he'd never actually met anyone he believed could do it before now.

"Shall I bring dessert for you now?" Tom asked.

"Fabulous idea."

"And would you like anything else to drink?"

"Well, I don't know about you Peter but I think I'm ready for that Champagne we talked about." Susannah grinned wickedly.

"Sounds good." Chris agreed.

Dessert, it seemed, was Tom's shining moment. After opening and pouring the champagne with a flourish he disappeared off into the kitchen and returned to their table wheeling a small trolley which held the ingredients needed to make the dessert, a frying pan and one of those mini gas stoves campers use to heat their Heinz beans 'n' mini sausages.

Clearly understanding their role as the audience for this performance Chris and Susie chinked glasses and angled their chairs so as to give Tom their full attention. Lighting the gas, Tom dropped a large knob of butter into the frying pan before turning his attention to chopping the banana and coating it in a mixture of Demerara sugar and cinnamon. Once the butter in the pan had melted down he dropped the bananas and sugar into the pan, frying them until the cinnamon sugar and the butter had combined to create a rich sweet smelling caramel. By the time the performance was reaching its grand finale, the addition and flaming of the brandy, Chris was practically salivating. Shaking the pan until the flames subsided Tom spooned the banana caramel mixture on top of the scoops of vanilla ice cream already in the glass serving dishes and placed a sprig of mint on top of each. The finishing touch.

Chris and Susannah gave him a little round of applause and as Tom placed a dish in front of Susie she gave him an indulgent smile that made him blush again. "Very entertaining." She said.

"Yeah, brilliant, thanks mate." Chris added tucking in.

Chris was just spooning the last of the sticky banana and ice cream into his mouth when the door of the restaurant opened and in through it walked a nightmare worse than even Mr Forrster. DCI Litton and half the RCS team.

"Bloody Hell!" Chris said, ducking down to avoid Litton's stare.

"What's the matter now?" Susannah replied, in a slightly exasperated tone.

"Er sorry, um sensitive tooth, cold must've irritated it." He said, covering his cheek with his hand to hide his face. For the moment though it seemed that Chris's luck was in once again. Litton and Co hadn't seen him, but Appleby had seen Litton and it didn't look like he was going to miss an opportunity to antagonise him.

"Well look what the cat dragged him." Appleby crowed loudly across the crowded restaurant. "DCI Litton, I dooo hope there aren't any hard feelings, I was just doing my job, you do understand that don't you?" Appleby smarmed. Litton merely grunted at him. "Tell you what, why don't I get the consolatory drinks in for you and the boys, Garcon, bottle of your finest champagne for the gentlemen." He said, getting up from his table and striding across the dining room as if he owned it. Chris continued to watch out of the corner of his eye, Appleby approached Litton, putting an arm about his shoulders. Initially Litton looked positively appalled by Appleby's over familiarity but as their hushed conversation continued he appeared to visibly relax. Chris wished that he could get close enough to overhear what the two of them were saying but he knew that was a risk too far. He needed to speak to Sam and the Guv again and as Tom arrived with the Coffee and Petite Fours and one of the other waiters approached Litton and his RCS cronies with the Champagne Appleby had ordered he took his chance and made his escape.

"Back in a minute." He told Susannah, diving off in the direction of the Gents, his head still bowed slightly.

~x~

Chris practically sprinted to the stall at the far end of the gents only to discover that it was already occupied.

"'Urry up in there this is an emergency." He said, banging on the door.

"Use the other one." A voice from the other side replied.

"Can't it's blocked." He lied.

"Bloody 'ell can't a bloke even 'ave a shit in peace." The voice said again.

"Seriously mate, I'm touchin' cloth 'ere." Chris replied, wondering why he hadn't just used the 'Open up it's the police' line instead.

"Alright, alright, keep yer pants on, or not." The voice sniggered.

After what seemed to Chris like an agonisingly long wait the stall door opened and a small balding man of about fifty appeared, smirking and shaking his head.

"It's all yours pal." He said and paying only a cursory visit to the wash basins he ambled out of the room.

Slamming the stall door shut and locking it behind him Chris almost gagged at the smell the previous occupant had left behind. Clambering onto the toilet seat again he pushed open the window and stuck his head out, gulping in the fresh air.

"Boss, Guv." He called urgently. "Litton an' the RCS are 'ere now!"

"S'alright Chris, the Guv's sorting it now." Tyler replied.

"What's 'e gonna do? 'E can't come in, Susie said she recognised 'im from the snooker club, she still thinks 'e works for the parks department though."

"Don't worry Chris, I think he's going to give Litton an opportunity he just won't be able to turn down." Sam replied giving him a wink. "But once Litton's gone you need to think about getting yourself out of there quick before we encounter any more unforeseen circumstances. We've been riding our luck here so far and it's got to run out sometime."

"Roger that Boss, the waiter was just bringing the coffee."

With that he pulled his head back inside and made his way back into the dining room.

~x~

Exiting the gents Chris was momentarily frozen to the spot. Appleby was once again chatting to Susie, but this time Litton was with him! The situation was going from bad to worse. He ducked behind a pillar, drawing puzzled looks from his fellow diners that he did his best to ignore, and continued to watch the three of them from a safe distance. He was sickened to see Litton practically slobbering over Susie, taking every opportunity he could to place his grubby paws on her. Smarmy git. He hoped the Guv would hurry up with his plan, if he left it much longer he might be forced to punch Litton's lights out.

From across the restaurant Chris heard the telephone ring, the snooty Maitre D' answered. Placing the receiver down he scuttled across the floor to address Litton, who returned with him and picked up the receiver. Chris couldn't hear the conversation but when Litton put the phone down he soon got the gist of how it went.

"Right lads, sorry to cut your evening short but it seems that DCI Hunt and A division 'av made a right ballsup of an armed blag an' RCS are needed to go an' clean up their mess." He gloated and both he and his lackeys marched from the restaurant without a backward glance.

Waiting until Appleby had returned to his table Chris rejoined Susannah.

"You know they must have some fantastic loos here." Susie said. "You certainly seem to be spending some time in them." She added.

Chris grinned sheepishly.

"So who was the chap with Appleby I saw you talking to on mi way back?"

"A DCI Litton apparently, heads up the Regional Crime Squad. Mr Appleby thought that I might like to meet him. Can't imagine why, thoroughly unpleasant little man if you ask me. Can't keep his hands to himself." She said, wrinkling up her nose in disgust.

Chris bit back a laugh and looked at his watch, mindful of what the Boss had said about getting out whilst the going was good. It wouldn't take Litton long to work out that they'd been sent on a wild goose chase.

"Am I keeping you from something?" Susie asked, sipping her coffee.

"No, no, well except that I've got an early start tomorrow, we've got the Britain In Bloom inspectors coming out to check us over so the boss wants to make sure everything is just right."

"OK, well perhaps we should get the bill then, I could do with an early start myself, revision to do."

They paid the bill, though there was little in the way of change for the Guv, and both he and Susie made sure that Tom received a little extra for his efforts. Before leaving Susie spoke briefly to Appleby, thanking him for his offer of drinks and assuring him that she would take him up on the offer at another time. Chris waited patiently for her at the door, he had no desire to get into any further conversation with Appleby, just the thought of it left a nasty taste in his mouth.

Out in the street he flagged down a cab for Susie.

"Well thanks for a lovely evening Peter." She said, smiling sweetly. "I really did have a good time."

"Perhaps," he paused not sure whether he say what he was thinking. "Perhaps if you fancy it we could do this again sometime? I mean, if y' fancy going to the cinema an' y' stuck for someone to go with?"

"Or if I fancy learning how to play darts?" She replied.

"Yeah, that an' all."

"OK well, here's my number." She said, pulling a pen from her bag and writing it on his hand. "I'll see you Peter." and climbing into the cab she pushed down the window, lent out and kissed him gently on the lips.

As the cab pulled away Susannah looked back and waved to Chris then glancing forward she caught sight of another solitary figure watching her go. Gerry. "Thank you." She mouthed to him as they passed.

Gene smiled to himself as he watched the tail lights of the cab vanish into the distance.

"Right Skelton, where's my bloody change?" He snapped.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks so much to everyone reading and reviewing this. Your kind words of encouragement are really appreciated. Apologies for the delay in updating, I've been having a bit of a block when it comes to getting to certain points in the story that I already have roughed out.  
_

_It should perhaps be said that this chapter was longer but I have decided to split it, which is why what follows only moves the story on a little bit. Hopefully I should have more up soon._

_Cheers x_

**Chapter Six**

Gene, Sam and Annie sat huddled around a desk in the dimly lit CID office. Everyone else had left for the day but the Appleby Forrster surveillance operation had turned up precious little, and though Chris' dinner date had left Gene's wallet somewhat lighter, Sam's hair a little greyer and Chris' grin a whole lot dopier they hadn't actually got anything of real significance from Susannah. What they needed was a new plan of attack.

"Couldn't we get 'er to y'know, spy for us?" Hunt was saying through great slurps of tea so sugary you could stand a spoon in it.

"No Guv, it's too risky, both in terms of the operation and her personal safety. I know Chris reckoned that she was alright but we don't know for sure that she's not involved somehow. We know from the phone number she gave Chris that she lives on the Stonecroft Estate." Sam replied.

"She could be England's answer to Bonnie Parker an' Chris'd reckon she was alright. He's been mooning about like a lovesick schoolkid ever since the other night."

In his state of perpetual motion Hunt had graduated from slurping tea to twisting his cigarette packet over and over, tapping the corners of the carton on the desk with a satisfying little _thock_ sound.

"Just because she lives on the Stonecroft it's no reason to tar her with the same brush as everyone else on there is it? She could just be trying to improve her situation." Annie chided.

"Oh 'ere we go with the bloody women's lib. 'aven't you got some hooverin' that needs doing Cartwright?" Gene said, grinning.

"Gene!" Sam snapped, making an irritable grab at fag packet as it made contact with the scuffed wood of the desk for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"Alright alright, don't get yer knickers in a knot Deirdre. I was only joking I'm all for 'er making something of 'erself. Maybe that way I might get me dinner bought for me one day. I'm all for a bit of equality me if it means I can get a nice steak out of it." He said, taking a final slurp from the dregs of his tea.

"Can we please focus on the matter at hand? As entertaining as this banter is it's not exactly addressing the problem we have." Sam sighed, trying desperately to steer the conversation in a sensible direction.

"Fine with me, sooner we make a decision sooner I can get a pint. Apprise me of the situation." Gene grimaced, rocking backwards on his chair and throwing his arms out wide. "What about this Inter City Firm stuff?"

Sam reached across the desk and pulled a buff file from a wire tray perched on the corner.

"Intel, from the Met, regarding our friend Moc."

"Go on then Tyler, what did the Southern Jessie's come up with?" Hunt said sceptically as he fished a cigarette from the packet he had discarded on the table and put it to his pouting lips.

"Vincent Michael Mockridge also known as Mockney, Moc or Vinny. Born in Salford January 25th 1950 to Elsie and Fredrick Mockridge, moved to London with his mother at age 9 when his parents divorced. Now age 28 and as I suspected the IFC links are there. I spoke to a DI Justin Keilly who's involved in a task force the Met have set up to coordinate and distribute intelligence primarily relating to the London football gangs, though they also hold records on potential trouble makers from gangs outside the capital. He told me that our little hooligan friend is a leading light of the IFC and they had been keeping tabs on him for sometime. He has several arrests specifically relating to football violence including several public order offences, affray, common assault and they're very eager to speak to him because it seems that he has broken his bail terms following a charge for GBH." Tyler said, handing Hunt the file.

"So, we get out there an' nick 'im then." Hunt muttered through the cigarette stuck to his bottom lip.

"We could do, but I say we bide our time for a bit, keep tabs on him and see if we can turn anything else up on our the lawyers before we bring him in."

"Bit of a risky strategy for you that innit Sam? If 'e gets spooked there's every chance he could do another vanishing act an' we'll not only 'ave lost our man but we'll end up lookin' like a bunch of prize pillocks in front of the boys from the Met. So what about the contents of the bins?"

"Well there were bank statements and various other things I've got a couple of the lads checking up on but there was an advice note that could give us a way in."

"Go on."

"The firm uses a contractor to clean its offices. The company is owned by one Malcolm Hintchcliffe, who owes us a favour. I was thinking we could put Annie..." Gene cut Tyler off.

"See Cartwright I knew you 'ad some hooverin' to do. What's up Sammy boy, don't want to get yer own hands dirty is it? I know your type Tyler, all for equality when you think it'll get you brownie points. Does 'e even know where the iron is in your house love?"

Annie laughed and Sam looked exasperated.

"No, that's not the case at all, it's just that I can hardly ask Chris and Ray, not least because Susannah would recognise them never mind the partners and I can't do it because Appleby and Forrster know me." He replied in a slightly whiny tone of protest.

"What makes you think that they won't know Annie's face?"

"Well, they might do but there are plenty of things I can do to disguise myself. New haircut, colour, different makeup. I quite fancy a change of image actually."

"Anyway, what I was thinking is that we get Hintchclife to put Annie in for a week or so as a casual to see if she can uncover anything."

"An' you're alright with this are you Cartwright?" Gene asked her directly, a concerned look on his face.

"Yes Guv, just so long as it means double time, and time off in Lieu." She replied with a hint of a smile.

"Cheeky Madam." Gene said. "But go on then, As it's you, and now we've got that sorted, who's for a curry?"

~x~

Annie starred at herself in the mirror, she barely recognised the woman who looked back. She had always considered her previously dark haired, pale self to be a little plain and obscure, despite what Sam told her. Not anymore, several hours in the hairdressers chair, an expensive shopping trip and the painstaking application of what Sam had termed warpaint had left her as far from plain and obscure as it was possible to be without drastic surgical intervention.

The image of Sam appeared in the mirror beside her own.

"You sure you still want to go through with this?" He said softly, snaking an arm around her waist and allowing his hand to rest on her hip.

Annie nodded her reply. The butterflies were beginning to build in her stomach, not only from the anticipation for the operation but at the thought of revealing her new look to the rest of the team. She and Sam had had the luxury of a couple of days to get used to the change but catching sight of herself in the shadowy reflection of a window was still quite a shock, and when she had met Sam under the clock on Victoria station following her visit to the hairdresser he had completely failed to recognise her.

"Dorry worry, you look gorgeous." Sam said, tickling her and kissing her cheek.

"Oh, and I didn't before?" Annie replied turning away from her reflection to face him and fixed him with a scowl.

"No." Sam squirmed. "That's not what I meant and you know it! I just meant."

"I know what you meant you daft sod." She said, wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing him slowly on the lips.

Sam kissed her back, parting his lips slightly and gently pushing into Annie's mouth with his tongue. He slipped his hands down her back and over her buttocks, puling her into him.

Five years they had spent together. Five brilliant and beautiful years. Never once had he regretted the leap of faith he had made in returning this place, retuning to her. Still, even in the best relationships, after five years love and passions grow and change. The intensity of first flush of passion fades to be replaced by a deeper love, security and trust; for Sam, Annie's drastically altered image had lead him to a place of rediscovery. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time, falling for her all over again. He was having an affair with his own girlfriend and she was like a drug to him. He couldn't get enough.

"Tyler, are you and DC Flashkickers still in there, or do I 'ave to send out a search party?" Hunt snapped from outside the door. "Come on out Cartwright, whatever they've done to you it can't be that bad. And if it is, we'll arrest 'em for ABH."

Sam groaned as he pulled away from the embrace and Annie stifled a giggle.

"I'll give Gene something." Sam said. "His timing's bloody impeccable! OK Guv we'll be out in a minute."

"For Gods sake Tyler put 'er down will you!" He replied. "Right, I'm going to CID and you two better be right behind me or I'll be back to drag you out." He sounded grumpy but the two of them could hear the smile on his face and grinned at each other like naughty teenagers.

"Come on then, I can't put this off any longer. Let's get out there." Annie said, and making a final check of her reflection she walked from the locker room with Sam following behind.

~x~

Annie entered the noisy CID office and took a seat at her desk in the same way she had done every single day since her promotion. At first the din continued as though there was nothing out of the ordinary but slowly; surely; it died away to silence as one by one, her colleagues caught sight of her. The way the noise dies when the stranger walks into the saloon bar in the Westerns Hunt loved so much.

Chris was the first to regain the power of speech.

"Bloody 'ell, It's Debbie Harry!" He exclaimed.

"Well it's certainly not Dirty Harry is it." Gene added from his position, lent casually against a cabinet on the opposite side of the room.

"So Cartwright, is it true blondes 'ave more fun?" Ray added in a leery tone.

"Hey, watch it Ray." Sam snapped at him.

"Come on then Annie, don't be shy, give us a twirl." Gene said.

Annie rose from her seat and standing in the centre of the room she did as Gene had asked. Accompanied by a cacophony of wolf whistles from the rest of the CID officers.

"Go on then, do the collar and the cuffs still match?" Ray said, ignoring Sam's warning.

"You're walking a very thin line Carling." Sam said, giving him an evil stare.

"Very nice love. Doesn't look like I'm going to be nicking anyone after all." Gene said. "and I don't think that you need worry about being recognised."

"No Guv, even Sam didn't recognise me at first." Annie said, laughing and heading back to her seat.

"Bleedin' 'ell call yourself a detective Tyler, you can't even recognise your own Missus. I despair I really do!"

"Er, if we're going to do this shouldn't Annie and I be heading out Guv?" Sam replied in an attempt to deflect Gene's scorn.

"Nice deflection Sammy Boy but if you think I'm going to let you get away with that one you're sadly mistaken. Come on Cartwright, lets get you to your new job." Gene crossed the room to stand directly in front of Annie, he had a look of utmost seriousness on his face and spoke quietly to her as though he were taking her into his confidence. "Listen, I don't want you taking any unnecessary risks in there, we just need enough to justify a search warrant to the Judge. If you find anything useful an' you can get copies then take them, if not don't chance being exposed because they've noticed that things have gone missing. And if you get any hint that they might have sussed out who you are then get right out of there. Promise me." He said, fixing her with an imploring look.

"Yes Guv, I promise." Annie replied, smiling at the earnest nature of his words.

~x~

The last of the evening sunshine was beginning to sink behind the tallest of the city's buildings as Sam and Annie drew up in front of the offices of Appleby & Forrster, in a van Malcolm Hintchcliffe had loaned to them.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Sam said, repositioning himself in the drivers seat to face her Annie.

"Of course I want to do this, I've gone this far already." She said gesturing at her white blonde hair and most un-Annie-like attire.

"OK. Just remember, don't take any unnecessary risks."

"Don't worry, the Guv has already given me that lecture. Right!" She said decisively, slapping her hands onto her thighs. "I can't sit here any longer otherwise I might just start talking myself out of this."

"Be careful." He said softly, pushing a stray strand of hair away from Annie's face and tucking it behind her ear. "I love you." He added.

"I love you too." She said, kissing him.

"I'll see you at nine-thirty Good luck."

"I'm hoping I won't need it." Annie replied as she climbed out of the van and headed off into unknown territory.

~x~


End file.
